


Making it Better

by LadyFogg



Series: Lady Fogg Ryan/Reader Drabbles Series [26]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Headaches & Migraines, NSFW, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, bad day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3530630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan tries to cheer you up after a bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making it Better

Funny enough the day didn’t start off terrible. In fact, it started off pretty well. You had dragged yourself out of bed to do your morning exercises, by order of the doctor. After the incident with your knee a few weeks ago, the doctor ordered you to do daily stretches and exercises to help the knee heal. It definitely felt much better now and in fact you don’t even need the brace most days. You only used it when you pushed yourself a little too hard.

Even after exercising and getting ready, you still had time to make yourself some coffee. For the first time you and Ryan were actually going in at the same time and when you had sat down at your desk that morning, you were so optimistic.

That quickly went away.

You were so swamped with work, you felt like you were being pulled in multiple directions. As such, you completely skipped lunch and barely had time to snack or eat the rest of the afternoon. That was a major mistake and now you’re starting to regret it horribly. The coffee stain on your shirt is a grim reminder of how much of a shit day you’re having.

Your head feels like it’s on fire.

You try to focus on your computer screen, but the light of the device hurts your eyes and you shut them, pressing the heels of your palms into your closed eyelids. The lack of food and water, plus your stress is starting to cause a migraine to emerge and you foolishly try to just wish it away. Obviously it doesn’t seem to work.

“You okay?” Ashley’s voice is gentle and quiet, but it still makes you wince.

“No,” you admit. You pull your hands away from your face and nearly sob as you see that your computer is now frozen.

You had been just about to finish your story for the Know. Once you’re able to get your computer working again, you realize that most of the work you had done was completely lost because you’re an idiot and forgot to save. You bite back a collection of swears you want to so desperately scream. Instead, you grimly begin to edit your story for a second time.

The more you go on, that harder it gets to concentrate. Your migraine is full on now and every time you hear yourself through your headphones you wince and bite back a noise of pain. When you finally get through editing the video, you just want to put your head down and block out the lights that are suddenly way too bright. You close your eyes for a few minutes, before you force yourself to open them so you can at least export the file you’re working on.

Once the file is safely being exported, you give into temptation and bury your face in your arms to block everyone and everything out. You lay your head on your desk, yelling at the universe in your mind. _Why do you have to be so shitty today universe?_ you think miserably. You hear Ashley get up from her desk and she comes over to stand next to you.

“I think you need to go home,” she says, placing a careful hand on your shoulder.

You appreciate her concern, but you really are too busy to leave now. You don’t even really know what time it is. You assume it’s close to five, which is when you usually leave. But you were hoping to stay later and get more work done. “I can’t, I have more work to do,” you say, your voice muffled.

“You can barely look at the computer screen,” Ashley says. “Besides, you don’t have anything that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“I’m fine,” you lie.

“As your immediate supervisor, I’m telling you it’s okay to leave,” Ashley says.

But you’re stubborn and hate leaving things unfinished. “No it’s okay,” you tell her. “I’ll stay.” You still don’t remove your face from your folded arms.

You hear Ashley give an exasperated sigh before her footsteps move past you and fade away. You let out a soft groan as soon as she’s gone. You really should go home. But you can’t leave with all this work left. Your knee is also aching a little, but nothing some aspirin can’t handle.

Speaking of aspirin, you really wish you had some right now for your head.

You hear footsteps approaching, but don’t even bother looking.

“See what I mean,” Ashley’s voice says as the footsteps get closer.

“Babe?” Ryan’s voice is filled with concern and this time you do lift your head, but it’s only to shoot a glare at Ashley.

“Tattle-tale,” you pout.

She crosses her arms defensive. “Damn right,” she says. “If I can’t make you go home, I went and got the one person who could.”

Ryan is already picking up your hoodie and purse. “Come on, let me take you home,” he says.

You try to argue, but the words die in your throat as your head throbs painfully. Weakly you nod and let him help you to your feet. Ashley offers to finish up your story and you gratefully thank her. You slide your arm around Ryan’s waist and lean against him as he pulls you away from your desk. His arm drapes over your shoulder, holding you close. You realize it’s actually much later than you thought and most people have already gone home.

The walk from the building to the car is painful. The sun is still shining and your head does not like it. You shut your eyes and bury your face into Ryan’s side as you walk.

He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze to let you know you’re at the car.

When you get home, you immediately kick off your shoes and head upstairs. You strip as you go, leaving articles of clothing in the hall. Your bed looks so inviting and you waste no time climbing in. You bury yourself in the covers, wiggling your head under the pillow and surrounding yourself in darkness. You hear Ryan downstairs for a few moments before his footsteps echo in the hallway. You can tell he’s taking his time and gathering your discarded clothing. You have to remember to thank him for that later.

He comes to your side and you hear the sound of a glass being set on the nightstand. You then hear him throw your clothes in the hamper and go into the bathroom. He’s only there for a few seconds before he’s back at your side.  

“I brought you aspirin,” he says.

You move the blanket and sit up just enough to take the pills and drink some water. Then you bury yourself in the warm, dark cocoon again.

Ryan runs his hand along your arm, or at least the lump of blankets where your arm is. “Migraine?” he asks. He knows you well. You have the tendency to get migraines when you push yourself too much.

You groan in response.

“Ashley says you had a tough day,” he continues.

“It sucked,” you say.

Ryan gets off the bed and you hear him take off his shirt and jeans, before you feel his warm body sliding into the bed next to you. He wraps his arm around your waist as he joins your under the blanket. “Sorry you had a shit day,” he says as he lifts the pillow slightly. His voice is soft and actually soothing. You feel yourself relax a little more.

“It’s fine,” you say with a sigh. “I’ve had worse.”

He pulls you against his chest and you smile as he spoons you, his breath tickling your neck slightly. “How’s your knee?” he asks.

“Not bad actually,” you say. “It’s mostly just my head that’s killing me.”

You both fall into silence for a few moments. You smile. You love that you can have a horrible day or a migraine and he will just climb into bed with you and hold you. You’re so comfortable and warm, you feel like you can actually fall asleep, despite the pounding in your head. You think he’s actually fallen asleep, until his hand starts to gently trace patterns on your stomach. The feeling makes you shiver slightly and you find yourself craving for him to touch you a little more. You actually hadn’t really done much since your injury (his choice, certainly not yours). You’re suddenly very aware of his hot skin against yours and his breath tickling your neck.

“You know,” you say, pressing your backside against his crotch. “Sex actually helps migraines.”

As soon as you say the words, you feel him twitch against you. His lips brush your shoulder and you can tell he’s smirking. “Is that so?” he asks, his voice taking on a very different tone. His fingers move to trace along the edge of your underwear.  

You nod and rock against him once more. One of his hands pushes the pillow off your heads as he moves your hair away from the back of your neck. His lips are soft against your skin and instantly makes you quiver. The hand that was tracing your underwear now slides down and under the fabric.

You arch into him as his fingers gently tease your quickly moistening flesh. His other hand tangles into your hair and his tongue snakes out to taste that special spot behind your neck that makes you twitch and gasp. You groan, but this time it has nothing to do with your migraine. In fact, with his mouth at your neck and his fingers stroking you, you barely feel the pain in your head anymore.

He’s rock hard against your backside now and you can’t help but continue to grind against him. His mouth travels from your neck to your shoulder and back again, leaving a trail of tender kisses and playful nips with his teeth.

He slides two fingers into you and you gasp before letting out a drawn out moan. It’s starting to get too hot under the comforter and you impatiently push it away. Cold air rushes over both of you causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. The comforter stays wrapped around your waists and soon Ryan has to you so worked up you barely feel the coolness of the room.

He removes his fingers briefly to yank your underwear down, but they are back and inside of you within seconds. You help him by moving your undergarments out of the way and kicking them off, losing them in the tangle of blankets.

Ryan rolls you onto your stomach, his fingers gently stroking you for a few more minutes until you’re writhing underneath him and begging for more. This time when he removes his hand you whimper, but you hear him pushing his own underwear down and you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. He lifts your bottom half slightly before pressing his cock into you in one smooth stroke. His hand is still tangled in your hair as he begins to move and his mouth and back at your neck, sucking and biting the flesh as he thrusts into you.

You can’t help but gasp and moan as your body clenches around him, almost as if it never wants to let him go.

His fingers are circling your clit constantly and you grip the bedsheets tightly, twisting them in your hands as you rock against the bed. He’s beginning to gasp and grunt as well, and you know this is one of his favorite positions as much as it’s yours. “Is this what you wanted?” he coos in your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.

You whimper and nod in response, moving along with him as best as you can.

He starts to move faster and changes angles slightly. You moan as he begins to hit your spot every time, causing electricity to shoot through your body at an alarming rate. The bed is rocking by this point and you’re in a constant state of motion as he continues to thrust in and out of you.

From his movements and panting, you can tell he’s going to reach his end before you do. You move along with him faster, and sure enough, you finish a few seconds after he does.

Your migraine is now just a dull throbbing pain and you feel so relaxed and satisfied you go limp against the mattress.

Ryan untangles his hand from your hair and removes a few strands from your face as he carefully slides out of you. He places a few kisses along your shoulder and then your cheek. “How are you doing?” he asks, running his other hand down your back.

“Mmm, much better,” you purr as you stretch.

He chuckles. “Glad I could help.”


End file.
